A Punch In The Nose And A Shock To The Heart
by Kina Kalamari
Summary: Some Sam vs. Fang action, followed up by some wonderfully Faxy fluff. Rather lame summary, but it captures the main gist of it. Set mid-SOF. Oneshot.


**A/N: Okay, so this is a oneshot that I wrote the other day. I wasn't going to post it, because I thought it was a bit too close to my other oneshot, Dumped. But then my sister read it and told me it was amazing, so I figured, what the heck? It's not like it'll make people hate me…I hope…**

**So, anyway, hopefully it's good enough that no one who's read my other one will mind that this is so similar.**

**Maximum Ride is not, and shall never be, owned by yours truly. It's rather sad, but it's true.**

* * *

"Max," Sam said quietly. "You have no idea how much you mean to me, do you?"

I didn't immediately answer him. Instead, I looked at him for a minute. His chestnut-colored hair was glinting in the sunlight that came down through the park's trees. His eyes held almost too much emotion for me.

Finally, I said, "I guess I don't. Enlighten me."

He smiled, though I thought it seemed a little sad. "Okay, I will. When you first walked into the school, I thought you were an angel. I could practically see the wings on you." I had to stop myself from snickering at that. If only he knew how ironic that was. "You glow like no one else, Max. You're funny, you're smart, you're pretty, and you seem to have this sense about you, like you know who everyone is and you're not afraid to tell them that you know. I think what I like most about you is your confidence." He paused, then shook his head. "Anyway, my point is that I think you're the one for me, Max. You're the one I want to be with. Please, go out with me?"

I stared at him. His speech had certainly been flattering, but going out with him? I mean, I barely knew the guy. And I couldn't really say that I had that strong of feelings to return.

"I…I don't know," I managed. "I'm not really sure if I can."

Sam's face fell. "Can, or want to?"

I just shook my head miserably, not saying anything. Sam seemed to get the message.

"Well," he said. "I guess I could maybe understand that. Maybe we could take it a little slower?"

I shrugged. "I suppose. Something small."

Sam looked at me for a moment, seeming to gauge something. After a long minute of silence, he asked, "I'm not sure it's what you'd call small, necessarily…" He trailed off, looking uncertain. Then he took a deep breath and said, "Can I kiss you, Max? Please? At least once?"

He looked so desperate, I found it hard to say no. And it's not like he wasn't good-looking, or nice, or sweet. He wasn't a bad guy. So I said, what the heck.

"Yes," I replied. "Just once."

Sam grinned widely. "Thank you," he breathed, then stepped closer to me. "This means a lot to me." Then he leaned in and kissed me gently.

It wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it was rather nice. Somehow, my hand wandered up to rest on the side of his neck, and I smiled slightly. Until my memory decided to bring something else up…

Me. Kissing Fang on a beach in New York.

Startled by the sudden memory recall, I broke the kiss with Sam, leaning back a little. He cocked his head, his expression confused.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and he sounded genuinely concerned. He was a good guy. An excellent catch for whoever he ended up with. And yet…

"Nothing, really," I replied, still feeling a little out of it. "Sorry."

"That's okay," Sam said. He shuffled his feet a little, looking embarrassed, before saying, "So, what did you think?"

What _did_ I think? I wasn't really sure. It'd been fine at the beginning, until that strange memory flash, and then it had seemed wrong somehow. I didn't get it. And I wasn't about to tell Sam that I'd been thinking about someone else while I was kissing him. That would just be cruel.

"It was nice," was what ended up coming out of my mouth. I'm guessing it wasn't really the response he was hoping for. He probably wanted me to start gushing and jump into his arms or immediately jump him for another kiss, but I really just wasn't that kind of girl. And I didn't feel that strongly about Sam.

I was right, though. Sam looked disappointed. "Oh. I thought…maybe…" He trailed off, but I could guess what he was getting at. _He'd_ gotten more than "nice". I felt so bad, but yet at the same time, I felt like this was right. I wasn't meant to be with Sam. Still, I felt the need to apologize.

"I'm sorry," I said. I didn't know what else to add, or even if I should say anything else at all. What could I say?

"But I know there's something there!" he said desperately. "You can't not feel it."

I shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry, Sam. I mean, it was nice, but just not…right, you know?"

"No!" Sam shouted, and I was startled by the ferocity in his tone. "I don't know! It was perfect, so you can't just…not feel it."

Okay, he was getting out of hand. Either he just didn't handle rejection very well, or I was breaking his heart more than I thought I was. I hoped it was the former, because that would make me feel a little less guilty.

"Sam, please," I said. "Don't go crazy. I'm not necessarily rejecting you. I'm just saying I don't think I felt whatever great sensation it was that you got."

Sam seemed to calm down a little at that. "Can we try again?"

"It won't change anything," I insisted. "I just don't feel it."

"I won't believe that," he said. "I won't believe that I can feel like this while you don't feel anything. The world can't be that cruel."

Whoa. I didn't mean to make the kid emo. Hopefully it wasn't a lasting effect.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "Maybe there's someone else out there for you. Maybe you just have to find them."

"I don't want anyone else," Sam said vehemently. "I want you, Max! Don't you get that yet?" He stepped forward, closing the distance between us. "Please, Max. Feel something." Then he leaned in to kiss me again, before I could do anything to stop him.

And then suddenly, someone was there. There was a hand on Sam's chest, pushing him backward…a scarred hand that I knew almost as well as my own.

"That's enough," Fang said, anger making his voice sound particularly menacing. He was at least four inches taller than Sam, which was certainly working to his advantage.

Sam glared up at him. "Stay out of this!"

Fang just looked back at him coolly, and, in typical Fang one-word fashion, said, "No."

Sam was furious, and he didn't have Fang's temper control. His face turned an unpleasant red color. "No?" he asked indignantly. "_No_?"

"Do you not know the meaning of the word?" Fang asked, an eyebrow raised. "I said no, and I meant it."

"But…you have no right to butt in!" Sam spluttered. "This is between me and Max."

"Not now, it isn't," Fang replied. "Now it's between you and me."

Okay, how had this happened? _Why_ had this happened? Sam's anger I could understand, with the way he'd been acting before we were interrupted, but Fang's? I didn't get it. Why was he picking a fight with Sam? I had no idea, but I knew I couldn't let this go any further.

"Guys, stop," I said. "This is ridiculous." I stepped around Fang so that I was in between them. "Fang," I said, turning to him. "I can take care of myself." Fang just looked at me calmly, but I could tell that he wanted to talk to me the first chance we had alone. I turned to Sam. "And Sam…" I thought for a minute, then said, "Get over yourself. You've just given me my first good reason to have nothing to do with you. Congratulations!"

Sam stared incredulously at me. "You…you're siding with him?"

I rolled my eyes. "No. I'm siding with me."

"But we're meant for each other, Max," he said, his tone pleading. "Can't you–" He didn't get to finish his sentence.

Fang punched him square in the nose.

I'm not sure how he managed to do it around me, but he did. I heard Sam's nose crack loudly, and he yelled in pain, dropping to his knees. I whipped around to stare at Fang, who just looked vaguely pleased.

"Fang!" I exclaimed. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"Didn't like what he was saying," Fang replied, completely unperturbed.

"Fang!" I exclaimed again, aware that repeating yourself like that was somewhat idiotic. "You didn't need to punch him!"

Fang just shrugged. "I've been wanting to all night."

My eyebrows rose. "All night? How long were you watching us?"

For the first time since he'd showed up, Fang actually lost his cool exterior. "Long enough," he replied shortly, scowling. "I _really_ don't like this Sam guy, you know."

All right, if I didn't know better, I'd say that Fang was jealous. He was certainly acting like it–over protectively disliking my possible beau. But really, what cause would Fang have to be jealous of Sam? It's not like I was asking Sam to join the flock and take up the post of my second-in-command.

"Okay," I told Fang sternly. "You're being weird and violent tonight. I think we need to get you away from any possible…" I looked down at Sam, who was holding his nose and moaning slightly. "Punching bags. You go home. I'll escort him…" I jerked my head at Sam. "To the hospital and then meet you there."

Immediately, I knew that Fang was not at all happy with that plan. "No. Can't you just call 911 and leave him here?"

"Fang," I said, exasperated and still confused at his strange behavior. "I don't have a phone. Besides, that wouldn't be very nice."

"I really don't care," Fang muttered.

I frowned at him. "You should. Now get moving. I'll see you soon."

"You're not getting away with this," he said, glaring at me. Then he turned and started walking away. "Be quick."

Muttering about the annoying strangeness of teenage, winged mutants, I went over to Sam. "Get up," I told him sharply. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

Sam moaned pathetically, but stood up. I managed to pry one of his hands away from his face to sling his arm around my shoulders. Supporting him easily, I headed for the hospital.

All the way there, I pondered Fang's abnormal behavior. I couldn't make it make sense. He'd never really been like that before. Well, he had, but only to Erasers and Whitecoats threatening the flock and me. Never to someone harmless like that. What had possessed him to punch Sam? Or even to intervene in the first place? It's not like I couldn't have kept Sam under control if I'd needed to, and Fang knew that. It wasn't like him to try and protect me when I didn't need it. He knew me and my capabilities, and he respected them. He let me finish my own fights. Why was this one different?

Well, I suppose the first difference was that it wasn't a fight. I wasn't exactly trying to stop Sam. I might have been in a minute, but Fang had stepped in before I'd tried to do anything. Which pointed back to my jealousy theory. Which put me back at a dead end that made no sense.

I was relieved when we got to the hospital, because it meant an escape from my repeating circle of confusing thoughts.

I managed to get Sam sent off to get some treatment, but I did come to realize two things. One, I didn't know where Sam lived. Two, I didn't even know Sam's last name. The receptionist managed to track him down by his school, grade, and description, though, so all was well. I just told them to send him home when they were done with him, and then I left the hospital. I never did like those places.

* * *

When I got back to Anne's house, I went immediately to Fang's room. I knew that he wanted to talk to me, and to be honest, I wanted to talk to him too. I had too many questions to not try to get answers.

Fang was lying on his bed, hands behind his head, staring moodily at the ceiling. I'll admit that I just stood in the doorway and watched him for a minute. He looked dangerously–dare I say it–hot like that. But that was a bad thought, most likely inspired by all of my impossible theories of him being jealous. Therefore, I decided not to dwell on it.

Finally, after more staring than I care to admit, I decided to announce my presence and walked into the room. Fang immediately raised his head to look at me. Once he'd confirmed that it was indeed me, he dropped his head back down onto his hands.

"Hi," he said flatly. "I take it your boyfriend has been safely escorted to a place with adequate medical equipment to stop some blood and possibly put a Band-Aid on his nose?"

I scowled at him. "I take you're still being irritable?"

He didn't reply to that, and, after closing the door behind me, I walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. I wasn't really sure how to open the conversation. It turned out I didn't have to.

"What did you see in him, anyway?" Fang asked, his tone still bitter.

I was vaguely surprised by his question, but not as much as I would've been before his onset of bizarre behavior. "I saw a nice, sweet, not-too-bad-looking guy. Why?"

I don't think Fang liked my answer. In fact, it seemed to put him in an even worse mood. "I doubt he was all that. Probably some creepy stalker."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, yes. That must be it." I paused, then decided to add, "What's got you in such a weird mood, anyway?"

Fang grimaced, but apparently decided not to answer me. Well. I wasn't letting him off that easily.

"Answer the question, Fang," I said, annoyed. "Spare me no details. I know you too well for this beating around of the bush."

And that was actually part of the problem. I knew him so well, and yet I had no clue what was going on with him. I always knew how he was feeling, even when he didn't want me to. I always could tell when something was wrong. And now, suddenly, I couldn't figure him out. It made him feel a little like a stranger, which bothered me. Fang wasn't supposed to be a stranger. He was supposed to be the one person in the world I could completely and totally trust, no exceptions.

Fang turned his head to look at me. He stared at me for a minute, and when he realized I wasn't backing down on this, he slowly sat up.

"You want the details?" he asked, and I nodded. "Fine. My problem is, Sam got it all wrong." I'm sure my expression was thoroughly confused right there. I had no clue what he was talking about. "I saw you guys tonight. Most of it, anyway. He gave you a flattering little speech to try to win you over, right?" I nodded to confirm the fact, even though I was pretty sure it had been a rhetorical question. "He said you glowed like no one else. Well, he was wrong. You don't glow, you shine." I was baffled, and I'm sure my face showed it, but Fang wasn't done. "He said you were smart. He was wrong about that too. You're not just smart; you're a genius. He said you were pretty. Well, you're not. You're beautiful. He said you knew who everyone was. Maybe you do, but the amazing thing is that you know who _you_ are. He said he thought what he liked most about you was your confidence…well, I'm gonna top that." Fang took my face in his hands. "I know that what I like most about you is just you." He half-smiled, dropping his hands back to his sides. "See? He got it all wrong."

I was flabbergasted. I was bamboozled. I was every other word that ever meant totally, staggeringly astounded.

It seemed I had been right. Fang was jealous. It was completely mind-blowing.

Apparently Fang still wasn't done talking, though.

"When he kissed you," Fang said quietly. "I thought I was going to kill something. As it was, I snapped a branch in half. I couldn't stand to see you with someone who wasn't me. That probably makes me shallow and self-serving, but guess what? I don't care, as long as you never look sideways at any other guy again. Max, I _know_ that you're the one for me, but I'm not going to ask for anything, even though not getting it'll probably kill me. It's up to you this time."

I just stared at him for a long, long time. I don't think I'd ever heard him say that much. Ever. It just didn't happen. And the _content_ of his huge speech was even more overwhelming than the length of it. What was I supposed to say to that? I didn't even know what I thought about it. My brain seemed to be focusing on all the little things instead of trying to digest the big picture. It was all just too impossible.

I think ten minutes must have passed before I managed to come up with any coherent sentences, and even that was just, "I thought about you, you know."

Fang looked at me. "What do you mean?"

"When he kissed me," I said, knowing what I was saying but not really feeling connected to the words. "It was nice at first, but then I thought about you. That time on the beach in New York. That was when I pulled away."

"Really?" Fang smiled a little. "Yeah, I remember that. Just for the record, what was going through my brain then was not 'ow'. I felt like an idiot afterward for saying that."

I smiled too. "Well, that's good. I wouldn't want to only be worthy of an 'ow'. What kind of kissing skills would that prove?"

Fang shrugged. "Who knows? Depends on the inflection of the 'ow', I should think."

"Hm…" It was then that I decided to ask a question that I should have known would lead to dangerous areas. "What _were_ you thinking?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, something along the lines of 'how come I never noticed how freaking amazing this girl is before now?' Mixed in with a little bit of 'this really hurts', since I had just gotten the crap beaten out of me, so I guess the 'ow' wasn't completely off."

I felt my cheeks heat up, and before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "I'm sorry."

"What the hell for?" Fang asked, obviously a little surprised by that.

I stared at my hands. "Because all I was thinking was 'I can't believe I kissed Fang…what's wrong with me?' along with being wicked mortified because I'd just ruined my tough leader image."

"Hey," Fang said softly, not sounding at all like himself. "Don't be sorry about that. For one thing, there is absolutely nothing saying that just because I realized I loved you then doesn't mean you had to. And for another," he added. "You most definitely didn't ruin your image. The flock still sees you as the same badass Maximum Ride that led them back before that little beach incident. Nothing's really changed."

I thought about that for a couple minutes. I guess he was right, but I still felt bad that while he'd been thinking about how amazing I was, I'd been wondering what was wrong with me. I mean, really. Self-involved much?

And would you believe that the next words out of my mouth were, "Why'd you kiss her?"

Yes, it was random. Yes, I got another point for surprising Fang. No, I have no idea why I had to ask _that_.

"Who?" Fang asked. "Lissa?"

"Yes," I replied. "Unless you've been kissing more girls I don't know about."

Fang looked almost horrified, except Fang doesn't get horrified. He gets mildly alarmed. "'Course not," he replied immediately. "And I'm not really sure why I kissed her. She was all over me, and me being a teenage male…" He trailed off, shrugging guiltily. Then he continued, "But I think it was mostly because I was fed up with trying to get you to notice me. If I'd known how much if hurt to see you with someone else, though, I wouldn't have done it. But I didn't know that at the time."

"Oh." I started fiddling nervously with my fingers. Then suddenly my fingers were clasped in Fang's hands. I looked up and immediately met his gaze.

"Did it hurt you as much as it hurt me?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

I knew automatically what he was talking about. "I don't know. I didn't end up punching Lissa, did I?"

Fang shrugged. "Doesn't matter. That wasn't what I was asking."

Yeah, I knew that. I was avoiding the question. But I did know the answer, so I said it. "It hurt. A lot. If you felt any more than that, I don't know how you survived."

"I'm not really sure I know either," he said quietly. Then, using his grip on my hands as leverage, he spun me around and wrapped his arms around me from the back. "But now I think it was worth it."

I leaned into him, breathing in his unique scent. "Maybe it was."

We sat like that for a couple minutes before I turned back around and looked up into his eyes. "Okay, Fang. You need to prove something to me now."

Fang cocked his head. "Anything."

"Good. Kiss me."

His eyes widened, but then he grinned suddenly. "I can do that."

And he did. He leaned down, gently capturing my lips with his. It was amazing. It wasn't like with Sam at all. With Sam, it was just physical contact. With Fang, it was physical and mental and almost…spiritual. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding myself as close as possible to him, enjoying every millisecond of such an extraordinary experience.

When we broke apart, I felt like a part of me that I'd only just discovered went with him. Like maybe it was actually a part of him that I'd discovered, he just fit so well with me it was hard to tell the difference.

"That was amazing," I breathed. I could tell from the look on Fang's face that he felt the same way. "And you're right…Sam was very, very wrong."

* * *

**A/N: So, was it worth me posting it? Any reviews are welcomed, though of course positive ones are preferred. =)**


End file.
